I Hate Him

I Hate Him

Copyright 2018 Janice Elliott-Howard

Published by Janice Elliott-Howard at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

About Janice Elliott-Howard

Other books by Janice Elliott-Howard

Connect with Janice Elliott-Howard

Acknowledgement

The motivation for the writing of this book comes from the fans who enjoyed the short stories portrayed in my first relationship book The Confidant Tells. I hope that these new characters live up to the hype.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Ring. Ring. Ring. Hello, FA9-9999 Taxi, location please? The dispatcher answered. Brenda clears her throat. Umm Hmm. Yes. I am going to need a cab at 2220 President Street between Landing Avenue and Loretta Place. Brenda’s request has a sense of urgency in her voice. I can have a car there in about fifteen minutes, honey. Explained the gum-snapping masculine voice on the other end of the line. Hmm. I guess that will work. Brenda quipped. Alright, I will have a car dispatched." Stated the manly sounding woman on the other end of the line. The two hung up. Brenda is in her bedroom feverishly packing her suitcase. Her children are still in school and her man Richard is still at work. She wants to be gone before either get back to the house. This is her one opportunity to throw caution to the wind and leave her misery behind. One suitcase is packed, she drags out another from the closet.

Her phone rings. Brenda’s heart is racing as if she had just finished jogging around the block. She looks at the caller id to see who it is. Much to her relief, it’s someone whom she trusts. She answers. Hey girl, what’s going on with you? The caller listens for a few seconds to Brenda’s labored breathing before she replies. Girl, forget about me, what is going on with you? Asked her sister Stephanie. Oh, me. Not much. I am leaving Richard. Girl, I have already called a cab and am trying to get everything packed now. Brenda states authoritatively. There is silence on the other end of the phone. After two minutes, Brenda says, Hello! Thinking that the call must have dropped. Stephanie sighs when she asks, What did he do that is prompting this sudden urge to run in the middle of the day? Brenda stops her frantic packing and sits on the edge of the bed. She bites her lip as she ponders her sister’s question. She knows by her sister’s tone that she does not agree with her behavior. You know how he is, I cannot take it anymore. I hate him. Brenda states emphatically. I know that you have been together for a long time. I know that he takes care of you. I know that he allows you the freedom to be yourself. What confuses me is why you are sneaking out like a thief? Stephanie exclaimed.

As the two sisters continue their strained conversation, Richard pulls into the driveway. He is surprised to see Brenda’s truck already parked there. She works further away from home than he does so a trip home for lunch doesn’t seem practical. Richard walks over to the truck and touches the hood. The hood of the vehicle is cold to the touch. He grimaces for a moment, shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and turns to head for the front door. The master bedroom is over the garage. He stops when he hears Brenda’s voice. It is obvious to him that she is talking to someone but he only hears the one familiar voice. Richard slowly moves forward trying to determine if Brenda might be in danger or just in a foul mood. He reaches the entrance to his home. Softly, he puts the key in and gently unlocks the door as not to call attention to himself.

Meanwhile, Brenda sits in her room trying to justify to her sister Stephanie the need for her actions. Richard still hears Brenda in mid-conversation with another party. As he approaches, Brenda’s voice amplifies. He recognizes her tone. It is her I’m fed up mantra. Richard knows that she only uses that rhetoric with her sister. By this time, Brenda is on her feet at the chest of drawers pulling out her lingerie by the hand full, the telephone is being balanced between her ear and shoulder. His eyes quickly scan all of the chaos going on in their room. He leans against the door jamb at the threshold. Hands again slid into the front pocket of his jeans. When Brenda was just about to utter another word, she turned and saw Richard standing there. The phone dropped to the floor. What’s going on here Bre? Asked Richard with a perplexed look on his face. You can hear Stephanie shouting, Hello, hello, what’s happening? Brenda is frozen as if she has just seen the second coming of Jesus Christ. Richard motions to pick-up the phone and extends his hand to give it back to Brenda. She takes the phone from him. She swallows hard, puts the phone to her ear and says, I will call you back. Without giving Stephanie a chance to acknowledge, she hangs up the phone.

Richard walks over to his side of the bed and takes a seat. Still in a hypnotic state, Brenda is motionless, gripping the phone in her hand tightly. On the inside, she is screaming for a way out of this confrontation with her man. On the outside, aside from the faint breath sounds, she remains immobile. He attempts to engage her once more. Bre, where are you going? Richard beckons in a calm measured tone. The sound of his deep baritone voice reverberated through her body. It jolted her out of her temporary paralysis. She finally blinks and finds the resolve to continue with her packing. Richard sits silently watching her clearing out draws. Five minutes go by when she stops, faces him and states, I am leaving you. I am so tired of your bullshit and I deserve better. Richard purses his lips together and strokes his mustache. What don’t you have that you want from me Bre? For the amount of time we have invested in our family, the least you can do is allow me to make it right. Richard pleads. Realizing that she has the upper hand, Brenda thinks for a moment about what he could do that he hasn’t already done. She comes up with nothing of significance. Richard always resorts to gifts and conformity when she goes into a rage. You can’t do a damn thing for me. I am so out of here. Brenda shouted. So, you were just going to pack up, leave, and not even tell us? What about the children? Richard demanded.

The taxicab pulls up in front of the house and honks twice. Richard hears the car horn and looks out of the bedroom window. He knows that she is serious about leaving them. Brenda zips up suitcases, grabs a coat from the closet and her handbag off the dresser as she snatches the bags and heads for the door. Richard follows but he never blocks her path. Brenda rushes as if her life is in danger. She knows that Richard would never hurt her but she is so dramatic and enjoys pushing him to the edge. The front door flings open. Why can’t we talk about this like adults? Richard shouts. Just then one by one neighbors who were home emerged from their homes on either side of them as well as across the street. It seemed like as good of a time as any to check the mail. Brenda turned to face Richard. She shouts, We are over, I will send for the children. Tell them that I love them. Each neighbor lingers as they walk back towards their homes. Brenda turns and walks down the driveway to the waiting cab. She has a look of desperation on her face. Her eyes are shouting save me. The driver gets out to open the trunk for her luggage. Richard follows her down the driveway. He notices the audience of onlookers. He smiles at the neighbors and decides it would be best if he checked his mailbox as well.

Upon reaching the taxicab, Brenda stands there with her arms folded, left hip extended and head cocked to the side with her lips pursed like that of a small unhappy child. Richard is standing at her left side, he whispers, Are you sure that you want to do this? What do you think the children are going to say? We can work it out, whatever it is. Brenda sighs as she reaches for the handle on the cab. Richard intervenes. He opens the door for her. At that moment, she realizes that he is going to let her go without issue. This made her second guess her decision to leave. After a moment of hesitation, Brenda gets into the taxicab. Richard closes the door behind her and the driver pulls away. He watches as the taxicab reaches the end of the street and disappears around the corner. Richard shuffles through the envelopes that he took out of the mailbox. There was nothing of importance at the time that he could see. After his encounter with Brenda, he called the office to say that he was not feeling well and would not be back in the office today. Richard needed time to figure out what to tell his children when they arrived from school and saw their mother’s car in the driveway but she is not at home. He walked back to the house. Richard’s original purpose for coming home was to make a quick lunch and head back to the office. His place of business is only four miles away.

Richard re-enters the home, heads for the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He opens the refrigerator and proceeds to pulls out the leftover roast beef, a head of lettuce, avocado and honey mustard. His mind wanders back to the night before when everything seems to be fine in his household. There was no indication that Brenda would leave him. Richard grabs a loaf of multi-grain bread from the counter, opens it and pulls out three slices. He lays the bread on the counter, with the precision of a deli clerk he layers two of the slices with all that he got out of the refrigerator. Once he was satisfied with his creation, he topped the mound of meat and vegetables with the third slice taking the filled two slices and topping it with the other well-measured stack on the other side of it.

Richard places his sandwich on a plate, heads to the drawer next to the sink to retrieve a knife. He returns, cuts his sandwich in half and a flash of anger envelops him. The plate and knife crash to the floor. The sandwich is saved. Richard takes a huge bite out of it. He walks over to the refrigerator stepping in between the broken pieces of the shattered plate that once held his lunch. He does not open the door. He reaches in between the counter and refrigerator to retrieve the broom and dustpan. Richard slowly sweeps the broken plate into a small pile. He carefully cleans up the mess picking up the knife, tossing it into the sink. Richard returns to the counter to devour what remains of his sandwich. He washes it down with a bottle of water.

Once his lunch is finished, he heads into the living room. His head is pounding as he makes his way to the recliner. He sits in silence pondering what to tell his children. Their school bus will arrive three hours from now. He settles into his favorite chair and leans back. Within moments, he drifts off to sleep. Honey, why are you sleeping here? Brenda whispers as she rubs her man’s shoulders. Oh what time is it? Richard asks in a groggy voice. It is nearly eleven o’clock. Brenda states with a slight smile. She is wearing his favorite negligee. He gets up, wraps his arms around her and follows her to the bedroom. For some reason, the path to their room seems further away than normal. Richard chalks that up to him being tired. They arrive at the bedroom door, Richard sees all the drawers to the dresser open, suitcases on the bed, Brenda’s clothing across the floor. All of sudden Brenda is no longer ready for bed but fully clothed with a look of disgust on her face. The room starts to spin out of control. Everything is out of focus and Richard feels weak. He starts shaking violently. The next thing he hears is, daddy, daddy, wake up, where is mommy? Trina his youngest asks as she rocks his thigh with force. He slowly opens his eyes to see his two children standing over him.

The two teenage girls stand there waiting for an answer from their father. Richard returns his chair to an upright position. Both Samantha and Trina watch his every move, neither uttering a word. Richard says in a whisper Your mother has decided to leave me. The two teenagers look at each other and back at their father. Samantha the older child sighs. Trina folds her arms and rolls her eyes. What did you do now? The youngest daughter asks in frustration. Richard is a bit taken aback by their response. All I did is come home for lunch. Her father answered. The two girls throw up their hands as they march off to their room. Richard watches them walk off. Well, that went better than I thought. He says to himself in a whisper. Richard gets up, heads to his room to get out of his suit. As he starts to close the door behind him, Trina blocks its closure. Richard faces her noticing the look of worry on her face. I know it is not your fault daddy. Do you think she will come back? Trina asks as her voice trembles. He pulls the door open and grabs his little girl in an embrace. I hope so baby. Richard states without conviction.

Chapter 2

In the basement of an unknown, the music is blaring some of the most prolific sounds of the time. KRS One’s I Got Next is playing as Richard approaches. There is standing room only and it cost five dollars to cross the threshold. It’s a house party on a Saturday night in Brooklyn, New York. He pays his admission and walks through the crowd as he surveys the patrons. A young man of his age is standing beside a large Styrofoam cooler. The words Cold Drinks $1 is written across the lid in magic marker. Richard produces his dollar and the young man allows him to look through the cooler to retrieve a cold can of Pepsi. He snaps back the tab as he scans the room for familiar faces. No one from his circle is present.

Richard is a big fan of the hip-hop culture. He writes poetry. Many of his poems have a deep message. He can identify with the lyrics of each rapper. Before long, a couple starts a dance routine, others join in and all involved are having fun. Richard is not much of a dancer so he watches gleefully as couples enter one after the other expressing their best moves. He continues gulping his soft drink. People continue to arrive late into